


For Better or for Worse

by Misaya



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Canon Compliant, Courtroom Drama, Doubt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Levi/Erwin Smith, Established Relationship, Light Angst, M/M, Makeup Sex, Misunderstandings, Secret Marriage, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-01-17
Packaged: 2018-05-14 13:29:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5745619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misaya/pseuds/Misaya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Men become monsters of their own making, but Levi is simply following orders and Erwin is trying to save the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Better or for Worse

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zoleas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoleas/gifts).



> Fic commission from Zoleas, thank you so much!

Though Levi cannot see it, he knows that the small rundown apartment they’ve chosen – he’s chosen – to marry Erwin in is packed to the rafters. The ghosts hold their breaths, silent, waiting with barely concealed fascination, and he prays under his breath that Isabel and Farlan aren’t angry with him. A chill runs up his spine; someone’s trampled over his grave, as his mother would say, but his mother isn’t here and hasn’t been for years and years. He wonders vaguely how it is that he can still recall her voice and the scent of the cheap cold cream she used to wear dotted on the high planes of her cheekbones.

He’d lived in this apartment before, crammed tightly in with friends and past lovers and the omnipresent spirits that come and go with every draft that ruffles the gauzy moth-eaten curtains at the window. But Erwin has never seen this place before, has never spent the better part of a week in the Underground, and Levi cannot help but admire the sacrifice he is making even now, with him. For him.

Erwin’s palms are cool and dry against Levi’s as the soft melodic tones of the purportedly holy man they’ve asked to marry them echo gently off the creaking beams that hang exposed from the ceiling. The crown molding is chipped at the corners, dusty from years of disuse; the wallpaper is faded from where streaks of bitter light have leached out the color of the pattern, and dust motes dance through the air, quivering with the slightest breeze. It is nothing glorious, it is nothing extravagant. It just is, and Levi relishes the calm simplicity.

“Do you, Erwin Smith, take this man, Levi Ackerman, to be your lawfully wedded husband?” the pastor asks. His black robes are dusty, dingy, threadbare holes in the cuffs of the sleeves, and Levi wants to laugh as he fixates on them. It is one of the most serious days of his life, and mirth rises up in him a bubbling well. Erwin catches his eye, catches the way Levi’s beginning to grin, and shoots him a quick smile before lowering his gaze and nodding firmly.

“I do,” Erwin responds. His voice is deep and caresses Levi all the way down to the bone. Levi’s fingers wrap firmly, gently around Erwin’s, and he wings a prayer to whatever divine beings might exist that he will always have the strength to hold on.

The pastor clears his throat, turns to Levi now. Levi can barely make out his features, the light from outside is too blinding and the dust dancing through the air too thick. “And do you, Levi Ackerman, take this man, Erwin Smith, to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

Levi inhales deeply, the words of affirmation ready on the tip of his tongue, but the dust gets there first and he begins to cough. A heavy fit of them wracks its way through his body, causing him to all but double over, tears glossing over his eyes from the strain. The pastor arches an eyebrow at him, and Levi can feel Erwin’s fingers tightening around his own. As though he’d had any doubts about it.

“I do,” he wheezes when he can stand up straight again, when he can breathe without choking on the air. And then, to dispel any doubts anyone might have, he repeats himself. “I do.” This time, more firmly; the pastor nods quickly, apparently satisfied with this admission.

“Then in the names of the holy goddesses, Sina, Maria, and Rose, I hereby do pronounce you wed.” The words ring through the empty apartment, and Levi swears he can hear the ghostly sounds of clapping and approval behind his eardrums as they lean towards each other for their first kiss as husbands.

* * *

That had been years ago. Ages. Centuries, it feels like, and they’ve now begun to crawl under each other’s skin in ways that are not all pleasant. Now the little habits that had once been so endearing have begun to itch and chafe like restraints, and their words begin to sharpen like spears to prick and puncture each other with invisible wounds. Erwin understands that this is natural; Marie had told him as much, in one of her ribbon-bound missives sent faithfully once a month in her long, curling script. She and Nile have been having their own problems, too, and for this Erwin feels a savage sort of pleasure even as she signs off her letters with x’s and o’s and tells him that one day he’ll find the right person for him, she has no doubt.

She doesn’t know that he and Levi are married. Nobody knows, save for the two of them and the doddering old pastor who probably fell victim to consumption or one of the other diseases that runs rampant through the Underground ages ago. He’s never felt inclined to tell her, though they share everything else about their lives, like the biographies of her three children, his fears about the Survey Corps’ upcoming expedition, the way she fears she may be falling out of love with her husband. Erwin reads this latest letter furtively, half-hidden beneath a pile of expense reports he still needs to get around to filling out, and he takes glances at Levi across the room, hoping and praying that Levi won’t get up and walk over to investigate what Erwin is staring at so intently. The man can be uncannily quiet when he wants to be, and when he wants, he wants.

But for now, Erwin’s safe. Levi’s attention is focused on the stacks of paperwork in front of him, frustration evident in the way his eyebrows are furrowed, in the way a bridge of worry sets rigidity across the span of his shoulders, in the way his shirtsleeves are rolled up to his elbows hastily instead of folded and creased neatly like they usually are. With a jolt, Erwin realizes that, despite all their faults and squabbles that have begun to escalate in recent times, he still loves the man sitting across the room with all his heart.

He knows everything about him, down to his little quirks and habits that he has when he thinks no one else is watching, and the wealth of knowledge is soothing in itself. He and Levi won’t fall apart, not for a long time, at least. They’re woven too tightly together, and to cut them apart would be the death of both of them. Erwin vows silently to himself that he and Levi won’t make the same mistakes Nile and Marie did, and he tries not to gloat smugly when Nile steps into his office hours later to complain about the expenses and inconsistencies in the paperwork.

* * *

Erwin doesn’t notice any difference in the arrangement of his desk, or in the cold shoulder Levi’s been giving him since he’d come to Erwin’s quarters in the middle of the night, claiming insomnia that had disappeared as soon as Erwin had invited him to lay down with him. Levi had disappeared with the morning, like always, and Erwin hadn’t mourned the cold side of the mattress or the rapidly disappearing indentation in the pillow beside him. It was how they operated, how they’d always done things, tiptoeing around the secrets they worked so hard to preserve.

But something is different, he determines as his eyes scrape over the stacks of paperwork on his desk. Something is gone, something is missing, and Levi is refusing to catch his eye as he marches across the room to drop another pile of papers onto Erwin’s desk.

Erwin catches his wrist. Levi’s pulse spikes for a moment against the press of his fingertips, before settling back into its strong rhythmic beats.

“What’s wrong?” Erwin asks, when what he really wants to ask is what’s wrong with the two of them. “You haven’t said a word to me all morning.” What he really wants to ask is why they haven’t spoken to each other, truly spoken to each other, in ages, and he wonders if Levi’s aware of the small silences that fill their time together more often than not.

Levi jerks his hand away, his eyebrows furrowing and a wrinkle of irritation streaking across the bridge of his nose. “It’s nothing,” he mutters, but Erwin knows him too well to know that it’s not nothing. Something’s working away at his husband, poisoning him from the inside out, but Erwin’s too preoccupied to search for the precise combination of time and reassurances that will compose the antidote. He’s trying to find the right words to convince the latest batch of soldiers in training to join the Corps in only a few short weeks, but the words elude him and he’s left with a blank page.

The expeditions haven’t been going well. That’s putting it into a light perspective. They lose more than they earn, and even though Erwin’s dedicated to the mission, even he can’t deny that some of these deaths are certainly preventable. Avoidable. After the years, the manpower, the utter faith he’s thrown into these missions, even Erwin is starting to think that maybe he’s losing hope.

Levi’s footsteps click rapidly back to his desk, and Erwin watches him absentmindedly, scribbling his signature across the bottoms of pages in his hasty scrawl without reading what the pages contain, he’s sure. He’ll leave Erwin to deal with it like he always does, and though Erwin’s aware he’ll sign off on almost all the documents Levi does, this little detail can’t help but irritate him. It’s the last indignity in a long list of perceived indignities, and Erwin can’t stand it anymore. Something has to give.

* * *

Levi looks up as Erwin’s footsteps clomp heavily over the stone floor towards his desk. Erwin’s thick eyebrows are knit together, a deep trough of anger set in his forehead, and Levi braces himself for the oncoming impact.

“What the hell, Levi?” Erwin hisses, pointing accusatorily at the papers Levi’s stacked on the left side of his desk to carry over to Erwin for his approval later. “You’re not even reading those, are you? I’m the one who has to deal with the fallout for the fuckups, you know. All the inconsistencies, the inane requests. You don’t see it, but I do.” He looks this shy of reaching across the table to grip Levi by the collar and give him a firm shake, and at this point Levi might even welcome it. It’s been weeks since Erwin’s looked at him with anything other than blank irritation.

“Oh, sorry,” Levi snips back. His words are pointed barbs, aiming to hurt, aiming to pierce. “Sorry I can’t be nearly as thorough as your darling Marie, describing all the little details.”

Erwin starts, reeling back as though Levi’s slapped him, and Levi takes a second of savage pleasure to watch the shock unspool over Erwin’s face. Clearly, Erwin hadn’t known Levi knew that he and Marie were still in touch. Erwin hadn’t exactly tried to hide it, and the missives written on creamy paper and bound with lavender ribbon hadn’t exactly been subtle. He’d resisted looking at them in the beginning, knowing full well that they were Erwin’s private matters and that she was part of Erwin’s past, but the envelopes had come with stunning regularity, straight from the capital and scented with orange blossom water. Levi had watched Erwin open them eagerly at the beginning of every month, and recently, when the smiles reserved only for him had begun to dwindle and dry up, Levi had been intensely curious about what magic this Marie possessed to make his husband grin again.

He’d loved her, that much had been abundant, if the way Marie went on about their teenage days was any indication. Maybe he still loved her. The Erwin that existed in the letters certainly wasn’t the same Erwin that had married Levi all those years ago, but Levi still had doubts.

He waits breathlessly for Erwin to refute it, for Erwin to say something to set his uneasy heart at rest. But Erwin remains silent, and Levi can’t bring himself to say anything past the bitter ire that chokes his words off somewhere below his mouth.

* * *

They lose the next few days in a flurry of commotion. Eren seals up the jagged breach in their defenses, and watching this mere slip of a boy transform enraged and powerful and strong has Levi’s heart skipping a beat in a way that it hasn’t in ages. He can’t remember feeling so exhilarated, at least not since Erwin had taken his hand all those years ago and asked him softly if he wouldn’t consider marrying him.

He’d said yes, and the clouds in the nighttime sky had skidded relentlessly across the moon to shroud Erwin’s joyful face in shadow and hide the doubtful expression that had begun to cross over his own. He’s never been good at being tethered.

“We need him,” Erwin informs Levi while Eren’s sleeping off the last dregs of his rage. He lays a hand on Levi’s shoulder, heavy and warm and piercing, and Levi strains not to press up into the touch. It’s the first one Erwin’s given him in a while that almost resembles their former kindnesses. Eren starts to stir on his thin mattress behind the bars of the jail cell, and Erwin quickly leans down to whisper a plan into Levi’s receptive ears.

His words burn long after he’s straightened again, and Levi swallows down the sudden fear and apprehension that have taken up residence in the pit of his belly.

What Erwin proposes is cruel. What Erwin proposes is madness.

What Erwin proposes is nothing short of what they need to do, of what Levi needs to do to convince everyone else that Eren is best off under Levi’s careful scrutiny.

Eren wakes up, his turquoise eyes fuzzy as he rolls onto his side to look blearily at Levi through the bars, and Levi tries to mask his regret with a commanding tone as he tries to forget the harshness of his husband’s request.

* * *

Levi’s not squeamish. He’s no stranger to blood, and he’s certainly no stranger to pain. Yet, he can’t keep himself from wincing almost imperceptibly, a slight tightening of the muscles in his forehead, the barely noticeable furrow of his eyebrows, as he slams the toe of his boot again and again into Eren’s ribs. His knee catches beneath Eren’s chin, a ringing crack that has Eren’s head snapping abruptly to the side and sends a rill of pain up through Levi’s leg. He soldiers on, catching Erwin’s steady gaze from the corner of his eye, and tries to take measured breaths as Eren bleeds over the dark leather of his boots, soaked and saturated.

The girl stares at him with disbelief in her dark eyes, a confusion that leaches slowly into anger, into hatred. What is her name? Levi’s thoughts come disjointed with every slam and crack and bruising mark he inflicts on Eren’s body. He can understand; he’s disgusted with himself, too. The senseless brutality of it all is stunning, and as Mikasa – Mikasa! That’s what her name is, it seems – opens her mouth to protest, Levi drops his gaze to focus on the task at hand and drown out her imminent accusations that he is a monster.

He draws his lower lip between his teeth, gritting the points of his incisors into the plump flesh and tasting blood as his breath comes in hissing gasps. Erwin would never ask this of Marie, his traitorous mind whispers to him now, as Eren turns his head to the side and spits a mouthful of blood to splatter crimson on the stone. The thought is almost enough to bring a full-blown manic smile to his face, Marie in her silks and hoop skirts breaking someone beneath her heels. Something, anything, to tear him away in dissociation from what he’s doing.

Mikasa’s protest never comes, and Levi finds himself fervently wishing she’d spit it out anyway. He knows it’s one that’s well deserved.

* * *

Erwin knows it’s absurd. He’d been the one to whisper the plan into Levi’s ear, he’d been the one who’d told him this was the only way they’d be able to convince the powers that be to let them have custody of the boy who’s becoming more and more integral to their plans with every passing moment. He’d known what it would take, he’d measured the brutality of it against a moral scale that seems to be failing him now as he watches his husband’s calculated violence.

But he’d never expected it to be like this.

Levi’s expression is hidden from view, but from this angle, Erwin can see that Levi’s lower lip is drawn between his teeth, a white starburst radiating from the center where he’s biting down. The corner of his mouth is tilted up just the slightest, as though there might be a possibility that he’s enjoying it. The very thought terrifies Erwin, and he rubs his eyes frantically with the heels of his hands to try and clear them, because surely he must be mistaken. Surely he must be tired from filing expense reports, surely, surely, surely.

Surely Levi’s not smiling.

But no. Closer examination cannot deny the fact that there’s a curl at the edge of Levi’s mouth, and Erwin can still see it long after the court decision is made to hand Eren over to the custody of the Corps.

His plan has worked perfectly, better than he’s expected, but Erwin finds that he cannot meet Levi’s eye when his husband turns smartly on his heel and heads back to his vacant spot in the stands next to Erwin.

Eren’s head is bowed, the curve of his back a pitiful broken line, and Erwin’s breath catches in his throat. He’s fifteen, only fifteen, he thinks to himself as he watches Eren sag in his restraints. The chains click and rattle against the post he’s attached to as he slumps, breathless. His blood stains rust colored smudges against the grey stone, and the scent of copper coins fills the room, heavy enough for even Erwin to smell. He can’t imagine how Mike feels, standing only a few feet away. Eren’s hoarse breaths rattle through the courthouse, not managing to completely overlay the harsh rapidity of Levi’s quick breaths right next to him, and Erwin wonders how he’ll ever be able to look at Levi the same way again.

He wants to redo it. He wants to take it back.

Humanity will collapse once we start losing sight of the real enemy, he repeats to himself, a calming mantra that’s worked in times past. It’ll only collapse when we start turning against each other. Erwin tries not to think about how he’s commanded Levi to do exactly that, and how Levi had followed through with stunning cruelty.

He tries not to think at all.

* * *

Eren recovers from the damages in record time, surprising everyone involved, and both Erwin and Levi breathe a sigh of deep-seated relief when Hanji peers into Eren’s mouth and finds that the missing tooth kicked loose has already grown back and the bruises are already fading. The jagged cut along his eyebrow is already knitting itself back together, and Levi tries not to stare in disgusted fascination as the skin becomes seamless. Where so many fresh rivulets of crimson had ran free, only rusty stains are left across Eren’s face, quickly and easily wiped away with wet cloths that blossom with fields of poppies when dragged across his skin.

Even so, Levi can’t be out of the room fast enough. Heel toe, heel toe, he reminds himself breathlessly as he clicks out of the chamber quickly after Erwin’s introduction. The repetitive instructions distract him, and his mind becomes consumed with the desperate need to tear off the stained clothes he’s in. Burn them, too. Take a scalding hot shower, scrubbing furiously to slough off the top five layers of skin.

Erwin’s footsteps follow his, echoing down the stone corridor, but he doesn’t catch up, despite the fact that Levi knows Erwin could be by his side in a matter of seconds if he so chose. He doesn’t choose, and this knowledge drops like yet another stone, embedding itself deep beneath Levi’s flesh.

He wonders if he’ll be able to sink. The casual wounds they inflict on each other build up into gashes, terrifying in the agony. How invisible they are!

Levi’s fingers wrap around the doorknob that lead to his bedroom, pausing, waiting breathless to see if Erwin will try to stop him, if Erwin will lay a bracing hand on his shoulder in apology and ask Levi to come to his instead.

It never comes, and Erwin’s footsteps pass behind him. Levi lays his forehead against the door, trying to blink away the tears that have slicked a heavy gloss across his vision. Deep breaths that taste like metal stain the inside of his lungs with rust.

Erwin’s bedroom door opens and shuts down the hall.

* * *

The door closes behind him and Erwin barely pauses to kick off his boots and unbuckle his belts before he flops down onto his bed, staring blankly up at the ceiling, much like he’s sure Levi is doing only a few dozen feet away. The shadows of the early evening crawl across the room and stain his skin with darkness.

Erwin closes his eyes, takes deep breaths, holds them until his lungs start to ache. Levi’s smirk dances on his closed eyelids, utter cruelty, and Erwin can hardly believe that he’s asked this man to marry him. How can it be? The man Levi was this afternoon and the man Erwin knows Levi is don’t seem to match up, and he can’t make sense of the disjunction.

Was Marie right? Erwin wonders absentmindedly to himself. The mattress next to him lays empty, an ocean of wrinkled white swells waiting to accept the weight of another body. You can take the boy out of the Underground, but you can’t take the Underground out of the boy. She’d written it in her curling, elegant longhand in a letter, one written in response to Erwin telling her about Levi, the proverbial tale of rags to riches, a pauper to a prince. Her words had been riddled with derision, and it was the only letter Erwin had discarded, had shredded it into long ribbons right at his desk under Levi’s surprised eyes. In some way, he realizes now, he’d been seeking her approval, her go ahead, pleading with her to relinquish the iron grip she’d had on his heartstrings even after years and miles of separation.

No. He shakes his head to clear it of these poisonous thoughts. He knows Levi better than Marie ever will, knows Levi better than quite possibly anyone else ever will, a marriage sealed with iron and blood. It’s too strong to fall apart, he weakly tries to reason with himself, and he’ll learn to deal.

You asked him to do it. The whispers tangle in the back of his head, spilling to the forefront of his mind, gaining volume until he can no longer ignore it. You said there was no other way. How do you know you’re not the monster here?

He groans heavily, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes until brightly colored sparks dance behind his eyelids and take away the image of Levi seemingly imprinted on the fine skin.

The answer is terrifying in itself. He doesn’t know.

* * *

Levi lifts up his hand limply from where he’s lying on the bed, watching it cast long-fingered shadows across the opposite wall. The moon is rising, heavy-bellied and full, without even the hint of clouds to shade its brilliance. It illuminates everything with bleak starkness. His fingers curl into a fist, remembering, remembering.

His skin is clean. Washed a thousand times, it feels like, scrubbed red and raw with a punishing fury he only allows him to inflict upon himself. Even the neat, freshly laundered sheets beneath him irritate his skin.

But he’ll do his penance, he decides with another lingering glance at the door. He’s waiting for Erwin to come pushing through, waiting for the soft taps at the wood that might indicate the beginning of their resolutions. They haven’t come yet, but Levi can be patient for now. He hasn’t done anything wrong, or so he convinces himself, but his conviction is starting to fail with every inch the shadows grow on his bedroom wall.

To distract himself, Levi rolls onto his side, wincing as the raw nerve endings on his upper arm sting and hiss in protest. He reaches out to the nightstand drawer, slipping it open with a soft snick of wood on wood, dips his hand inside to tug out the small velvet pouch he keeps all his prized possessions in.

Without bothering to close the drawer, he withdraws his hand cupped around the soft fabric, props himself up against the headboard to spill his treasures onto his abdomen. A tiny bottle of his mother’s perfume, like oranges and what Levi can only describe as sunshine. He uncaps it now, wafting the scent under his nose and wondering if his mother, wherever she is, is thinking of him. Two round bronze coins, worried in his hands so long that the faces and engravings on the sides have been worn away, that he’d discovered with Isabel and Farlan in the remains of a church. One slim silver band from Erwin. He slips this last onto his ring finger now, admiring the way the moonlight catches on the metal in a pearly gleam.

“For better or for worse, huh?” he asks the empty room, curling his fingers of his left hand into a fist. He tries to ignore the phantom sensation of Eren’s hair clutched tightly between his fingers. “Well, the worst part has come, and you’re nowhere to be seen. Funny how that works, isn’t it?”

The shadows don’t respond, and Levi slips down between the sheets, turning his face away from the moon as he tries to swallow away his bitter unhappiness.

* * *

It’s the early hours of the morning before Erwin pushes open Levi’s bedroom door. He’d knocked already, once, twice, thrice, but when no response had come, he’d taken matters into his own hands.

Levi’s fast asleep, his arms thrown above his head in reckless abandon, and Erwin swallows back a sorrowful sigh as his eyes catch the gleam of moonlight on metal. He tiptoes quietly to the side of Levi’s bed, sits down tentatively, but even the slight, gradual dip he causes in the mattress makes Levi stir. His eyes flicker beneath the thin film of his eyelids before they flutter open, unfocused as they settle on Erwin.

“I’m sorry,” Erwin blurts out before Levi can fight his way through the fog of waking up. “I’m sorry.” Repeating it, as though perhaps if he says it enough times and if Levi’s still drowsy, he’ll be more receptive to the message. “I shouldn’t have asked you to do it.”

Levi props himself up on one elbow now, rubbing at his eyes. His skin is rosy, scrubbed raw, Erwin knows. Punishing himself.

“No,” Levi agrees slowly, sitting up fully now. He’s naked, Erwin notes; the sheets puddle across the spread of his legs and pull taut across his hips. The shading of neatly trimmed dark curls bleeds through the white, and Erwin wants to cry. “You shouldn’t have.”

“You’re not a cruel man,” Erwin whispers, aching to lay kisses of apology across Levi’s stinging skin. “You’re not.”

Levi regards him carefully. His searching gaze travels over Erwin’s face, measuring his sincerity, roving downwards to where Erwin’s left hand rests in the sheets. His eyes widen almost imperceptibly, catching the golden gleam of the ring Erwin had slipped onto his finger mere minutes ago to remind himself of it. For better or for worse, and things have to get worse before they get better. The dusk must fall before the dawn can come again, and they’re in the darkest part of the night.

“You smiled.” Erwin’s babbling now, his words making no sense. “Like you thought it was funny or a game or something, and don’t you see why I might be –“

Levi lays a finger across Erwin’s lips, effectively silencing him. Thinking back.

“Oh,” Levi murmurs after a while. His fingertip is warm against Erwin’s lip, and Erwin knows exactly how easy it would be to push. A quick purse of his lips, the tip of his tongue tickling along the pad of Levi’s finger, pressing him down into the sheets. But no, he scolds himself sternly. Now is not the time or the place. “It’s because I was thinking of Marie.”

“What?” Erwin’s utterly confused now. “You were thinking about Marie?”

“Yeah.” A frown graces Levi’s face, creases on his forehead deep enough to sow seeds of regret. “And how absurd it would be if she was doing that in place of me.” He doesn’t have to specify what that is, and Erwin has to admit, the image is a bit silly.

Levi’s next words are so soft that Erwin has to strain to hear. “How can I not think about her when she’s such a big part of your life?”

His question is infused with doubt, and Erwin winces at all it implies. A breach of trust. An askance of his faithfulness. Erwin’s heart aches. Levi punishes both of them with his words, but it’s well deserved.

“Marie…” His voice trails off. “I’m not having an affair, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Levi sits. Levi waits. His hands fold in his lap. Patient. Waiting.

“You…want what you can’t have.” Levi’s mouth purses, and Erwin tries frantically to backtrack. “No, that was phrased wrong. I mean…” Erwin sighs, defeated. “She only sees the good part of me,” he says lamely. “She doesn’t know me like you do. Doesn’t see the whole picture. And I guess…” He sighs again, takes a deep breath, encouraged somewhat by how the creases in Levi’s forehead seem to be filling out again, his face more relaxed as Erwin explains himself. “I guess I wanted that,” he finishes. “To be the good man. Not the man who ordered you to break a child, and then got upset because he couldn’t handle seeing the results of his commands.”

Levi sighs. Their hearts beat together, and moonlight puddles in the sheets. Silence stretches out between them so tight and taut that Erwin thinks it’ll snap with the slightest breeze.

Levi’s hand comes up to cup Erwin’s jaw, his thumb stroking gently over the swell of Erwin’s bottom lip. “You’re a good man,” Levi allows in a soft voice. Louder, now. “You’re a good man.”

Erwin hardly dares to believe Levi’s words, but when his eyes flick upward to catch Levi’s gaze, he can barely breathe for the love that infuses Levi’s eyes with gentleness. “Just put me first, okay?” Levi asks. “If you can.”

“I can,” Erwin swears. “I can. I do. I always have. You see all of me, as I am.” In a way, it’s more serious than their wedding vows, for better or for worse, well deserved as Levi opens his arms and lets Erwin slip in to fill the hollow in both their hearts.

* * *

Spread out beneath him, before him like a feast, Erwin can hardly believe that there had been any doubt about him putting Levi first. Levi’s hair is a dark starburst on the white pillowcase, the arch of his neck strong and pure so that Erwin cannot resist leaning down to leave scarlet bites along the line of Levi’s pulse. They’re too high for the cravat and collar of the jacket to hide, but both of them are beyond caring as Erwin positions his cock at Levi’s entrance and begins to work his way in. Despite careful preparation, one, two, three fingers stroking him open from the inside out, and the generous application of unscented oil, Levi’s still tight around him, the clench and pulse threatening to drive Erwin over the edge almost immediately.

It’s been far too long.

Levi’s cock juts rosy from the junction of his thighs, flushed and weeping across the pad of Erwin’s thumb when Erwin reaches a hand between them to wrap around Levi’s burgeoning flesh. Levi’s breath hisses through his teeth, a pleased whimper working its way through the grit.

Erwin’s hips roll gently, delicately; Levi won’t break, but now is not the time or place for rough, unfettered sex. He tries to work gentleness and compassion in every thrust, the give and take equal in their measured control.

They wound each other, and bandage each other, too. Their salves are tender, their stitches gentle, kisses an opiate to take away the sting, and Erwin layers them lavishly all over Levi’s skin, an apology. Actions are louder than words.

Erwin bottoms out on every thrust, the head of his cock nudging into the firm nub of Levi’s prostate, and he revels in the choked sobs and whimpers Levi makes, writhing in the sheets beneath him. At this rate, Erwin expects Levi to come any moment now, and his instincts are rewarded when Levi convulses in the next thrust, clutching around Erwin like a vise, his fingers pressing tightly into Erwin’s back as he tries to tether himself.

White splatters across the ridges of their abdomens, and though Erwin’s nowhere near close, not yet, he finds himself teetering abruptly on the edge when Levi cracks his eyes open again to look up at him. The look he gives Erwin is nothing short of adoring, nothing less than merciful, his eyes coated with a thin film of gloss and the apples of his cheeks flushed a healthy rose. Levi’s lips are kiss swollen, his jaw and neck rubbed raw with the light crop of stubble Erwin has sprouting along his own jawline. The hickies adorning Levi’s neck will linger for days, scarlet, then pink, then gone, and Erwin knows Levi will complain about them in the morning, but for now he can’t help but twitch his hips uncontrollably into Levi, deeper, deeper, deeper, deep enough that he thinks he might be swallowed whole as he claims Levi’s mouth again and the crests of his orgasm peak over him in tidal waves.

* * *

Sweat cools in the hollows of Levi’s collarbones and underneath his hairline as Erwin lays heavily on top of him, his softening cock still lodged firmly inside. Levi tries to nudge him off, to no avail, but even he has to admit the solidity and near-crushing security that Erwin’s heavy weight provides is comforting in its own way.

Levi settles for gently threading his fingers through the damp gold of Erwin’s hair, stroking it back off his forehead and admiring the way the moonlight dances along the planes and contours of his husband’s face. The gleam dusts across his forehead, streaks through his hair like meteors, illuminating the rise and fall of Erwin’s breathing against his own, in synchronization with his own. Erwin’s eyelashes flutter even as Levi’s studying him, deep blue eyes flickering up to meet his gaze.

Waiting. Apprehensive, still, curious to see if forgiveness and repentance have been reached in equal measure. It’s a question that they both have to answer for themselves, but Levi has no qualms about granting absolution. Not now, not when he’s pleasantly sore and Erwin is making him feel loved and protected in the most basic of ways; not now, not when Erwin is looking at him with his lips slightly parted as though all his thoughts are Levi’s to have.

Like this, Erwin looks vulnerable. Like this, Levi has no doubt that he takes the lion’s share of Erwin’s heart every time.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, at the same time Erwin opens his mouth to say the same. Levi laughs, clear, pure. He can’t help it. They take each other’s burdens and bury them deep beneath the ground, fertilizing the soil for new beginnings. They love, for better or for worse, and in the morning, Erwin begins to write a letter to Marie, Levi watching over his shoulder, to inform her of their marriage.


End file.
